


Brothers

by OllieCollie



Category: Magnum P.I. (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, Brothers, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I love Magnum, POW Camp, Prequel, Rick feels guilty, but I also like to injure him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 09:49:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20598773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OllieCollie/pseuds/OllieCollie
Summary: Thomas was going to be okay. Because Rick couldn't deal with losing his friend—his brother. He didn't know how he was supposed to tell T.C. and Nuzo about how he'd held Thomas in his arms as he faded away.Basically a Magnum whump.





	Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy! I'm jumping into AO3 with this little angst-y Magnum fic. I have more stories on the way that I'm excited to share! 
> 
> Leave a comment if you get a chance; feedback is always amazing! :D
> 
> Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Standard disclaimers apply.

Honestly, before he joined the military, Thomas Magnum never imagined he'd have such a high level of pain tolerance—and one that was growing by the day, actually.

It was crazy, really, the amount of trauma a body could handle. All it took was a fighting spirit and a hard head. Magnum had both. 

Although some days weren't so great. Aw, who was he kidding? There weren't any "good" days in a POW camp. But today was definitely one of those "less than lovely" days.

"Thomas? Hey man, you gotta wake up. C'mon, let me see those pretty little eyes."

_ Really, Rick? _Magnum barely caught the tail end of his friend's sentence, but he'd heard enough. He wasn't exactly in a joking mood. In fact, the more aware he became, the more he wished he'd just stayed unconscious. 

Fire shot up his right arm, and the constant headache that plagued him was at least a hundred times worse than usual. Judging from the way he couldn't get a decent breath, he more than likely had been kicked in the ribs a couple of times. The fact that he'd recently come down with something probably worse than just a cold was the icing on the cake.

However, Thomas could worry about himself in a minute. His first priority was his friends. So for that reason, and that reason _ only_—not Rick's ridiculous pleas—he cracked an eye open.

"Magnum." He could hear the relief in his friend's voice, along with more than a hint of exhaustion and pain. "Hey brother, you with me?"

Magnum grunted. His thoughts were swirling around, and he tried desperately to grab on to a concrete memory. He vaguely recalled being dragged across the floor, evil laughs and insults echoing around him. He remembered Rick being taken away from them first—he remembered trying to ignore the threats and promises that they wouldn't see their brother again. They always played these mind games with the prisoners—the problem was when they decided to give up and make good on those threats. There was no way to know when that would happen.

"Rick...you—you okay?" he gasped out, beyond relieved to hear the other man's voice.

"Yeah, T.M., fitter 'n a fiddle—as always." The joking tone fell flat. "I'm okay," Rick whispered. "Better off than you."

Magnum coughed, every movement spiking pain in his ribs. They must've got him good.

"O—others?" The world spun, and he squeezed his eyes shut again.

"I don't know." Rick shifted. "I think they're good. The guards didn't exactly tell me anything."

If it wouldn't have hurt so badly, Magnum probably would've snorted.

A memory flashed in his mind. Rick on his knees, hands tied, eyes full of fear. Something hard striking Magnum in the gut. An explosion of pain. 

He groaned again.

"Take it easy," he heard Rick mutter. Something was pressed to his forehead. "How you feelin'?"

"Ha," was as close to a laugh as Magnum could manage.

"Okay, dumb question."

"All...all of your questions are dumb, Orville."

Rick sighed, but he stopped short of shooting back a retort about making fun of his name. That's when Magnum knew things were bad.

He was really sleepy. But he didn't want to leave Rick alone to face those buffoons if they decided to come back and play again. Not that he would be much help if they returned.

A few minutes passed in silence, minus Rick coaching Magnum's breathing. It didn't help a whole lot. For a few minutes, he was on fire, sweating like crazy. Only seconds went by before he was freezing, shivering and trying to get warm. _ Not fun. _

Scratch that, it was a lot more than not fun, but being pessimistic never helped any of them.

"S'c—cold," he whispered between chattering teeth. He couldn't remember ever having been so cold before. It was like a block of ice had lodged in his chest and was planning to stay.

_ Fight, Magnum, fight_, the inner voice that was always so hard at work in this place encouraged him.

He sighed and closed his eyes. He just didn't have the energy. Sleep wasn't exactly an option, though, not with his entire frame shaking like a leaf. 

_ Fight, Magnum, fight._

* * *

"Hey, hey, calm down, T.M." Rick couldn't hide his worry. It had been two hours—his best guess—since Magnum had woken up, and the man hadn't stopped shifting around and mumbling since. His limp form lay between Rick's sprawled legs, his back against the other man's chest.

His friend was probably half-conscious at this point, sick and injured as he was. Rick growled under his breath. Those rats, who didn't give a care who lived and who died in this hellhole, had had their fun beating up on Rick—punishment for talking back—but it was when Magnum was brought in that the real fun began. 

He would've been fine if they'd just roughed him up some, maybe left him in solitary confinement for a while, but the guards had different plans. They bound him, brought Magnum in, and made him watch while they tortured his buddy. 

Luck—if you could call it that—was on their side in the end, because after the guards became tired of their game, they'd simply left the two men alone, an unusual occurrence, but one that Rick was not going to question. He eventually took care of the knotted rope and freed himself, not much worse for the wear. However, Magnum was a mess. New cuts and bruises dotted his body, and his breaths were short and ragged.

Rick squeezed his eyes shut, trying to rid himself of the memories. He tugged Magnum closer. _ I'm so sorry, T.M. _

He couldn't think straight. T.C. and Nuzo would know what to do...they would be able to help. But there was no telling how long they'd be left here, alone in the dark. Rick bit his lip. Magnum wasn't looking good. He'd been coming down with something over the past few days, and after the beating he'd just taken, it had only worsened. _ No...he has to be okay. _

Thomas was going to be okay. Because Rick couldn't deal with losing his friend—his brother. He didn't know how he was supposed to tell T.C. and Nuzo about how he'd held Thomas in his arms as he faded away.

A fresh wave of determination swept through him. They would be okay. They were always okay. Things had been worse, he was sure. Fragments of older memories popped up here and there—memories he'd done his best to forget. Re-living any day in this place was a sure-fire way to _ not _survive. Look ahead.

Magnum coughed, pulling Rick from his spiral. "No...no. _ Stop! _Don't...don't."

"Magnum? Hey, shh." Rick didn't know if anyone was nearby. The guards didn't like it when they made too much noise. 

"You can't—you can't do that!" Magnum's voice rose. "No! Leave him—"

"Magnum!" Rick hissed, giving the man a shake. "Hey, I'm right here. We're all good."

T.M. blinked a couple of times, gaze drifting upward. He licked his chapped lips. "Rick?"

"Yeah, man, still me." Guilt chomped away at Rick. "Thomas, I'm sorry."

Confusion filled the injured man's eyes. "Sorry?" he repeated. "Wh—why?"

"Because." Rick could barely get the words out. His stupidity got Magnum into this situation. "I'm the one who backtalked the Grinch," he mumbled, letting his head fall back against the wall. "I didn't mean for them to hurt you. I—I should've known better."

"Hey." Magnum's unusually quiet voice stopped him short. 

Rick huffed. "I _ really _don't need a lecture about what an amazing person I am, T.M. I already know." Ugh. Now was not the time to joke. He was supposed to be apologizing. "Seriously, man, I—"

A hand on his leg interrupted him. "You got him good," Magnum gasped out, the slightest hint of a smirk on his sweat-drenched face. "Was a...real...zinger."

Despite everything, Rick choked out a laugh. "It was, wasn't it?"

"His face…" Magnum tilted his head in the tiniest headshake. "Worth it."

"I don't know about _ that _." Rick rolled his eyes. "I—"

"H—hey. Do me a favor." Magnum ran his tongue over his lips. "Stop talking. And don't...don't blame your...self. You know I've done the same stupid things."

"Ha. Don't I ever." That only made him feel a _ little _bit better. He noticed Magnum's shivering had finally eased up some. "Come on, might as well try to get some rest." 

"Yeah...good call." The injured man shifted, head settling against Rick's shoulder. "Closest thing to a pillow I've had in a while," he quipped.

Rick playfully—and carefully—ruffled his friend's hair. "Well, don't get used to it. I'm not your personal mattress, T.M." 

"Close...enough." Magnum's eyes drifted shut. He was out in seconds. Rick, however, spent the next few hours wondering how he got lucky enough to be stuck with three guys who were willing to do anything for him, forgive him for his big mouth and stupid mistakes, and pick him up when he fell. Maybe it was hard to say it out loud, but they were everything to him.

They were brothers.


End file.
